XI.
Soon, soon shall vanish that array,
Those varied colours fade away
Like meteors light and vain,
And eagle bright and pennon gay,
Ensanguined dust distain:
And soon be hush’d in various death,
The cymbal’s clang, the clarion’s breath,
The thunder of the plain:—
That sun which fires the eastern sky
Shall set, ere noon, to many an eye
In battle’s stormy main!
The young, the gay, the proud, the strong,
Ghastly and gored, shall lie along
In mingled carnage piled.
Blood shall pollute the limpid source,
And Teio flow, with many a corse
Affrighted and defiled.